We all need our winter day

I spent winter in Sweden in 2011. We had a few hours of daylight, the rest of the time it was dark. Sometimes, if we partied too late, we’d sleep through the light entirely. I remember, too, the first warm day of spring, when the sun came out, the snow melted. My friends and I raced outside, half naked, lay on the damp grass in the park sunbathing, drinking sparkling wine. It was 15 degrees.
 
Alistair remembers a time when he was living in Thailand, and a cold front swept down from China. The overnight minimum in Bangkok was 16 degrees. Many residents refused to leave their homes in the morning, saying it was unhealthy to be outside in such bitter cold.
 
My little sister lives near Dublin. In Ireland, a summer heatwave is declared when on five consecutive days the temperature rises above 25 degrees.
 
Today in Mission Beach, the temperature is 20 degrees. I am rugged up under blankets, wearing a jumper, tracksuit pants, and cosy socks, and I’ll be cycling through cups of cacao and herbal tea, reading my book, and snuggling up with Snowbell.
 
Temperature is a subjective thing. Human beings are subjective creatures. What is not subjective is that, sometimes, we all need our winter day.

We need to shed our leaves, turn off our phones, put on a pair of trackies, and settle in for a day of essentials: food, drink, silence, cuddles; the people we love, the things we love to do.
 
Often we race through the day, and then, when the day is done, we find that we are still racing, like a sprinter trying to slow down after the finish line. Our momentum carries us all the way to bed, we fall in face-first, shoot through the night in a jumble of agitated dreams; suddenly our alarm goes off: we leap out of bed, and start running again.
 
Spring needs winter. But winter never rushes towards spring. Just as the world has its seasons, we have ours. Today is my winter day. If you want to reach me – don’t bother. I’m turning off my phone. I’ll see you again in spring 🙂🌸.